


Dream of White Ibis

by KeanBlade



Series: Shades of Rose [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Chakra kink, Fluff, Hair Kink, M/M, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Suboptimalsibling!Hashirama, Uchiha Madara's Hair - Freeform, nor beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-08-13 14:02:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeanBlade/pseuds/KeanBlade
Summary: Tobirama saves Madara, and takes advantage of an opportunity to get his fingers in that lovely hair. Madara just wants to know how he never noticed Tobirama before, and if he's going to remember this tomorrow,





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharked/gifts).

Tobirama tapped his fingernails on the branch he was perched on, what he was contemplating was _incredibly _foolish; if he miscalculated, if he was wrong, he was probably going to die a very gory death. On the other hand if he did nothing and was right Madara Uchiha would probably die; Hashirama would be insufferable if that happened (it had nothing to do with the way Tobirama felt about the Uchiha clan head, nothing at all), so clearly it made the most sense to at least check. He nodded firmly to himself and set off in a different direction than he had originally been moving in; Madara’s chakra was easily found even when so low and unstable (drugs? Poison?) so he was confident in his direction if not his purpose. There were other chakra signatures with him, a clan from the land of lighting in if Tobirama sensed correctly (he remembered them from a run in with them a year ago, they liked sedatives and were well known for _bloodline theft_), they were behind him (Madara might not be as fast as Tobirama, but he was still _very_ fast) but steadily catching up with him as Madara slowed; there was still a chance that Madara was luring them into a trap, but as Tobirama got closer he could see the distortion in the Uchiha’s chakra more clearly and he was increasingly sure that that wasn’t what was happening. _Fuck,_ Tobirama needed to move faster, the pursuing shinobi had caught up with Madara and there were a dozen of them at Tobirama’s count, all of which felt like they had a fair amount of power to back them up; that combined with Tobirama’s growing certainty that Madara was both wounded and drugged meant the other man was in a very concerning position.

(Madara couldn’t see straight, the whole world was shifting and wavering in front of his eyes and it felt like the ground was moving under his feet; he didn’t know what they had slipped him, but he did know it was going to get him killed. There was no way he could fight them off as he was, not wounded (as the pain in his thigh wouldn’t let him forget) and drugged (he fucking hoped he was drugged not poisoned) and his running was… sup par. How the hell was he going to get out of this? Izuna would have a melt-down if something happened to Madara but he couldn’t see a way out of it. He pressed himself harder against the tree behind him striving for some stability so he could maybe see straight and pulled in a breath to spit fire, only to choke on it as there was a rush of movement too fast for his blurry vision to see clearly; just white and blue and red- oh, ok, that’s blood. Lot’s of blood. Huh. He gapped dizzily through the shinobi at the rush of movement because that must be- that looked like _Tobirama_. What was the Senju doing here? ……doing here killing all of Madara’s shinobi, hey, those were his! On the other hand, wow, _wow_. Madara knew the Senju was strong- he fought Izuna to a standstill all the time- but it was one thing to know that and another thing _entirely_ to _see_ it. _wow. _He was…… _guh_. All lightning fast movement that Madara’s glitching Sharingan couldn’t reliably track and intent focus, sounded by flashing water and swirling blood- Madara didn’t know he could use _blood_\- chakra a twisting, tightly controlled blade of power through his enemies. Oh- Tobirama had just put water senbons through two men at once, senbon he had _spit_\- wow, and that was _definitely_ his water dragon eating someone, like, properly eating them. _Guh_)

Tobirama check around the clearing for any the enemy shinobi that were still twitching, quickly dispatching the two that were being particularly stubborn about staying alive; carefully keep an eye on Madara. Clearly the other man was more drugged than Tobirama had thought because huge black eyes- flashing red inconsistently- were fixed on him as he moved about the clearing; looking at him with something oddly like adoration, which made less than no sense. Madara had never noticed him before, had never even given any indication that he was aware of Tobirama except for as the Sanju Izuna fought and maybe as Hashirama’s brother, maybe; (Tobirama would never, _ever_, admit how much that hurt) so for him to be looking at the albino like he was something miraculous was just bizarre. Tobirama shook his confusion off and finished dealing with dead shinobi, Madara wasn’t dying that quickly if he could pull off a look like that, but all too soon he had nothing more to do except deal with the Uchiha and turned to look at entranced black eyes. He swallowed and approached Madara slowly, he _really_ didn’t want the other man to change his mind and decide he wanted to kill Tobirama instead, “Uchiha-sama?” he asked in a low voice. Madara stared blankly at him, Tobirama had never found the Sharingan unseating as many of his clan did (maybe because he already saw red eyes in the mirror every day) but even so it was admittedly a little alarming to the see red flicker though his eyes without steadying into full red; he _really _wasn’t looking forward to convincing Madara to let him look at his eyes “Uchiha? Madara-sama?” the Uchiha started a little but his eyes didn’t focus any better or loose the dazed look.

Tobirama sighed deeply and stocked over to the Uchiha, “Madara, where are you hurt? Do you know what they gave you?” Tobirama snapped his fingers in front of unfocused eyes sighing when the response was sluggish and uneven, fuck. “Madara, damn it, do you even know who I am? No, stupid question, you’re not trying to kill me, you have no idea who I am.” He slipped closer as he spoke brushing green hands over the muscular form (this was the closest he had ever been to Madara, it was…… definitely not something Tobirama was allowed to think about) and swore when his hand brushed over one thigh. Fuck, that was bad; not artery bad, but Tobirama needed to do something about it as soon as he could; he shifted back and tapped a finger to his lips (Madara followed his finger intently), there was a cave of sorts in the area- more of a grotto in a rock formation- and while it was small it was already equipped with protective seals that should have kept it somewhat secure since he used it last. It took some real work to coax Madara into leaning on him (he kept _staring_) and then manage the gunbai and the hair without anything getting underfoot, but Tobirama managed it eventually and got Madara sitting against the cave wall while Tobirama set the seals that would make it safe enough to let down their guard a little.

Tobirama scanned the seals one last time as he stripped off his armor and rolled up his sleeve to get to the seal tattooed on his arm that contained most of his medical supplies, glancing up at Madara through his eyelashes; it was a great relief to see that- for what ever reason- the other man had gotten enough energy to start striping out of his armor and gotten it most of the way off, Tobirama would just need to get it out from underneath him. Tobirama scrubbed his face tiredly, he hadn’t thought this would need quite this much work when he had gotten mixed up; oh he didn’t regret it but he was fairly sure knowing what Madara looked like when he wasn’t in the middle of a fight was going to really _hurt_ later. Fuck that, he shoved himself up and dropped down again in front of him and gently brushed Madara’s hands away to finish with the buckles on the plating; “Don’t kill me please.” He murmured as he pulled Madara forward to lean on him as he removed the armor from behind his back.

(Madara…… wow, he wanted to bite. Lovely collar bone. There were red streaks on it. It was soft too, he nuzzled his face into it whining a little when his person stiffened, noooooo, stop, don’t be sad. His person started relaxing again and Madara hummed, pleased.)

It was… difficult to ignore the happy subvocal sounds Madara was making, especially when he was nuzzling at Tobirama’s neck and,_ god_, that hair brushing against his skin. He shook the thought off, more important to deal with his leg first; which was also a bad idea, damn it. His thighs…. _No!_ Focus. Wound. Tobirama narrowed is focus only to the wound as he directed his chakra, he was not going to think about the fact that Madara was watching him. Or that he was now playing with the ends of Tobirama’s hair “…..It’s so white!” he murmured sounding amazed “I am an albino Madara, that’s to be expected.” Pause “You’re an albino?!” whisper shouting was new. “Yes Madara, red eyes are not normal in the Senju clan.” And then, of course, Madara was right in his face peering intently in his eyes; Tobirama froze and could feel his cheeks heat as the Uchiha examined him. Madara light up and brought one clumsy hand to Tobirama’s cheek and brushed a knuckle under his eye. “Even your pupils are red!!” he made it sound like this was the most amazing thing ever, and Tobirama; Tobirama had never felt like maybe, _maybe_, maybe his eyes weren’t abominations (maybe _he_ wasn’t) before. He didn’t know how to do this and gently tugged Madara’s hand from his face and pulled back; the wound was superficial now most of it fixed, he could finish it later after Madara was asleep. For now, it would be better to get a read on what was in his system- nothing deadly, Tobirama had already ascertained that- and make him eat and drink first.

Madara was compliant enough to eat and drink if clearly out of it and tired, sagging where he sat and starting to feel the fall ot of the drugs- Tobirama couldn’t clean it out without knowing more about what it was- and Tobirama hesitated, (this was such, _such_ a bad idea) before shifting closer and opening the seal on his arm. As soon as he was close enough Madara sent him a pleading glance and when Tobirama didn’t react slowly tipped over into the albino’s lap; which was basically exactly what Tobirama had wanted but confronted with all that lovely hair….. he had felt it earlier but now it was all there in front on him- _in his lap!_ Tobirama gathered a strand in between his fingers, it was so soft, and finer than he had expected; like brushing his hand through fine ash after a hot fire, and _hopelessly _tangled; well, Tobirama did have a brush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I write fast and don't edit much- this is a place for me to not have to worry too much about perfection and just enjoy it- so things can be mangled at times. (I've got a wonky brain that can't see symbols as well, so I frequently can't even see mistakes) That's not something that's likely to change any time soon, so if imperfect writing puts you off this probably isn't for you


	2. Chapter 2

Tobirama would deny until the day he died that he had bought this brush while thinking about Madara. The fact that he had been walking through a market in the Land of Wind and his eyes had caught on the beautiful hawk flying across the back of it, feather edged in brilliant gold had nothing to do with Madara at all (he was fairly sure even Hashirama hadn’t put together the thickness of the gauntlets the Uchiha always wore with the feathers in his hair and realized that this “oldest friend” flew hawks. _Tobirama_ definitely shouldn’t have noticed). The handled was covered in deep scarlet flames and rest of the wood was lacquer black and it had fine boar bristles; honestly, it was one of the most expensive things Tobirama had ever bought and he had felt foolish ever since. Getting to use it now was both wonderful and sort of awful (and embarrassing, very embarrassing), but he refused to think to much about later; for now he was just enjoying brushing it out (carefully, he had done this for his brother a few times so he knew how to do it well) from the ends up to the roots until it was returned to feathery softness. Huh, it actually was so spiky and fluffy naturally; lots of layers of differing lengths and so much of it that it just went _everywhere_.

It was absurdly difficult to drag his hand away from Madara’s hair and redirect his attention to checking the levels of the drugs in the older man’s system. As he slipped his hands over that dark head he paused, frowning there was something… something wrong with his _eyes_, and for an Uchiha that was extremely concerning. Had he taken a blow to the head (there were no signs of it in his skull) or a poison agent in his eyes? No irritation that a powder or smoke would produce, though there was irritation farther back in the nerves of the eye than it should have been, what in the world? Tied into the tenketsuin nodes that sat behind the eye- which were always slightly different in an Uchiha as far as Tobirama was aware- there was what felt like _deterioration;_ what the _hell_ was that? If it continued it might lead to blindness which would be nothing short of a death sentence for an Uchiha given how reliant they were on their vision; it was one thing for Tobirama to have vision impairments, he had had them since childhood and his skill as a sensor made up for it when the seals inscribed on the happuri couldn’t, but Madara….. he drummed his fingers on one strong muscled shoulder, forcing himself to stop before it turned into a caress, he really, really shouldn’t do that. That would be crossing a boundary he shouldn’t cross, especially given that Madara was unconscious- well mostly, he seemed to be drifting in and out of it and halfway aware of what Tobirama was doing. (Not that Madara would let him do it if he was awake, but some things couldn’t be helped.)

(Madara couldn’t _remember_ the last time he had felt this good, even the ever-present dull ache in his eyes and the swirling nausea from the drug couldn’t touch the pleasant lull of _his_ person’s- _Tobirama_!- fingers in his _hair_. It was _intoxicating_, warm and comfortable- he wasn’t even thinking about how wonderful those _gorgeous_ strong thighs were anymore, or how much he would _love_ to have them around his head, or _trying_ to figure out where his hand was so he could see if they felt as _nice_ under his fingers as they did under his cheek, or- wait- what was his original thought….. _ooooohhhh_ what if Tobirama let _him_ do it when he could see it _properly_?! Like with his _sharingan_ and everything!? Like, so he wouldn’t lose track of it?! _ooooohhh,_ that would be _amazing_. He could ask? But what if his person said _no_. his heart fell, that would be- oh! Hand over his eyes- that should worry him? Maybe?- and it was warm... his eyes didn’t hurt or anything. The sudden relief made it _impossible_ to keep the tight control over his chakra he habitually maintained to preserve his eyes, and if flared out of him, which was _wonderful_ it turned out. Because Tobirama _moaned!_ It choked off quickly, which was _sad_, Madara wanted him to make that noise again. He _needed_ it! Chakra maybe? Oh, yup, that was it, that _sound_, doing it again made Tobirama fold over him and he felt hot breath against his ear, he was _going to melt._ “no, stop that, I can’t focus when you do that” why would he stop? When it made his person’s voice go like _that_.)

Tobirama swore, trying his best not to pull on Madara’s hair as arousal slammed through him again; this needed to _stop_, he was not going to feel this way with Madara unaware in his _lap_. (Though he was fucking sure the memory of it was going to wake him up late at night) Ok, he might get killed for this, but desperate times called for desperate measures, it was good he was so good at multitasking as he threaded chakra into the Uchiha’s eyes; carefully, so, _so_, carefully. To his surprise not only did it get the chakra flares to stop, he didn’t get killed for it (he should have, he was mucking with Madara’s _eyes_) so Madara must be even more drugged than he thought to not lash out; it wasn’t like he had any reason to trust _Tobirama_ anyway- Hashirama maybe, but not him. He twisted fine tendrils of chakra through the nerves, searching for the source of the damage to fix; it was hard without any actual jutsu he could use to guide the power but without knowing what he was doing he really could do any better. For now he would just sooth it and get a feel for it, he could try to come up with something better later when he had more time and access to materials; he could just test it on himself anyway, his own eyes were already pretty bad no one would notice if they got worse or if he blinded himself on accident. (Besides, Madara was more important anyway.)

By the time Tobirama was done with his eyes- particularly with scanning them which took a while- and had checked the thigh wound, the drug as had faded noticeably and Madara had slipped into true sleep. It would probably only be a few hours until he woke up and Tobirama needed to clear out any trace of himself he could find before then; he didn’t want Madara to wake up and recognize him, it would hurt way to much to see the Uchiha recoil from him once he realized who was next to him. Tobirama was fairly certain that Madara wouldn’t remember anything from the night, if he was out of it enough to have more than one unintentional chakra flare he was out of it enough to have no idea what had happened; once Tobirama picked up his seals he would be free to go. He wouldn’t be able to use this bolt-hole again of course, not now that Madara knew where it was, but that was alright in the big scheme of things; he frowned, the battle scene should be clear. Oh they might find the bodies but Tobirama _liked_ to make examples of bloodline thieves when he could so that was just as well; all of the most recognizable marks of his fighting style were gone, he had cleared them out before he brought Madara back to clean him up. The earliest rays of sunlight striped across the uneven floor and the albino bit back a pathetic whine; he didn’t _want _to leave, he wanted to pretend that Madara would wake up and the way he had looked at Tobirama would mean something and he wouldn’t try to kill the Senju and maybe even thank him. But that was a foolish child’s fantasy and Tobirama always tried to be realistic, there was no realistic world where he would be more than the enemy Madara hated- or worse, didn’t even notice- and Izuna’s _freak_ opponent (because Madara had to know he fought Izuna, he watched his brother much too closely to have missed that, and if Hashi didn’t… well. That was fair given who Tobirama was).

With one last self-indulgent stoke down feather soft hair he slid out from under Madara, time to go. Madara stirred and his hand closed around air as he seemed to reach for Tobirama (silly fancy) at the movement; the Senju threaded his fingers thought the fringe over his eye and hummed a little “Calm Madara-sama, all is well” before dragging himself away, ignoring the unhappy rumble- it wasn’t about him anyway. It was the work of moments to remove all the traces of his presence and leave only the most basic alarm tags at the entrance, tags any shinobi knew. He hesitated for a second at the opening, looking back. But. well. this might be his only chance to see Madara like this, he was allowed to savor it this one time. (The trees shivered slightly at the speed of his departure, but he didn’t look back.)

Waking was disorienting; Madara shivered and twitched, confused, it felt- it felt like there should be someone _with_ him but there was no chakra anywhere any his sensing range. Which- actually, that was odd wasn’t it, what…? Madara shot up from where he was curled against the wall of the shallow cave he was in (how did he get here?) and immediately regretted it as his head pounded; what?! There had been… shinobi! Chasing him, _fuck_, but, he couldn’t feel _anyone_ nearby. There had been an ambush at the end of his mission when he was already tired and low on chakra, someone how gotten him with a drug of some sort that had left his hold on his chakra unsteady and made his Sharingan flicker on and off erratically; he had taken out half of them, -maybe?- before he had had to book it out of there and hope like hell he made it back to Uchiha territory before they caught up (_bloodline thieves_­). The drug had been kicking in _hard_ by the time he hit the border to Land of fire, he had flashes of staggering through the trees before he had to drop to the ground and almost fallen into a clearing; a, tree? He had fallen against a tree maybe? his memories got very confused, he had flashes of white and, a dragon? Before it fell apart again. A confusing spin of disconnected feelings; fingers in his hair, warmth against his thigh- _fuck_, he was wounded…. Well, had been wounded apparently. It was fucking strange, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was _missing something important_.

He snarled in frustration, slamming his fist against the wall, this made no _sense_! And to make it worse he had no idea why he was so upset except that there was something that should have been here and wasn’t (“_….all is well_”), digging in the corners of his mind and searching his Sharingan produced nothing new. Damn it. Madara slumped back against the stone, the emotion was fading even as the memories flitted away from him; within a few breaths the entire thing was confusing and exhausting but no longer tearing at him. Distant enough to focus on his surroundings for more than a threat assessment. There was not trace of his mysterious helper, his armor was piled neatly in the corner and the gunbai was leaning next to them; nothing was missing, it looked like whoever they were had defended, him removed him to here on the border of Senju and Uchiha lands, and healed him before disappearing. With nothing to find here there was no point in staying, it would be best to get back to the clan compound before Izuna completely lost his _mind_ looking for his brother. Still….. he wished he could remember what had happened. He couldn’t shake the feeling he had lost something desperately important.


	3. Chapter 3

Madara staggered into the clan compound with his head still pounding from whatever hell-drug the Lightning-nin had hit him with (_why_ did they do that?! They could have tried just coming at him head on!..... oh. Right. He would have annihilated them) and probably winced and reeled back as there was a terrible shriek and a large projectile coming in his direction, swearing as the fast movement made his head spin “_Fuck,_ Izuna, don’t do that! My head is killing me.” “Madara!!” ow, still too loud “Madara! You’re ok!!!” Izuna wailed. “Not going to be if you don’t stop yelling!” he hissed, pressing a hand over his eyes; they didn’t hurt for once, but he felt like he was going to _throw up_. Izuna’s hand pressed on his shoulder and lead him away from the gates (Madara _was not_ leaning on him. He wasn’t) speaking in a more reasonable volume (thank the eternal flame) “We thought something had happened to you! Mikoto found the dead blood-line hunters and when we couldn’t find you we thought something happened to you after you killed them.”

Madara blinked, dropping his hand to look at his little brother “What? _I_ didn’t kill them; how did you find them?” he asked confused. Izuna sent him a worried look “The patrol found them, they’re…. very dead. Like, _very_ dead. With prejudice. And malice. And squishing. And… yeah, someone was making an example, a _loud_ example. After we found them Mikoto followed them back the way they came and found your trail (which, honestly, you left such a mess), but when we found them dead and you disappeared we didn’t know what happened” Madara stared at him, because, what? “What?” he said slowly and Izuna sent him a worried look “Are you ok? You aren’t normally _quite_ this slow.” “They drugged me!” Madara said, indigent, paused, refocused “Somebody killed them for me” Izuna burst into laughter “Somebody _saved_ you?! Like, like some civilian-hime?! You needed saving?!” Madara immediately fluffed up in fury only to pause. Wait. He raised a confused hand and patted at his head in shock; his _hair_, he wasn’t sure he had _ever_ felt it this smooth and tangle free- it was so _fluffy!_ Why was it so fluffy? How could he make it happen again? It was so nice…..

“Um, brother? Why are you petting your hair? Argh! No! I don’t want to pet it! What’s wrong with you!?” chasing down Izuna and forcing him to feel Madara’s suddenly nice and tangle free hair (Madara had gotten used to just ignoring the pull of knots when he turned his head, it was so _weird_ to not feel it) was more than a little satisfying, and he took great glee in rubbing Izuna’s face in it (literally). It had the side effect of startling Izuna into not struggling at he poked at Madara’s black mane, “….. This is so strange, it’s…. so soft and not tangled. What the hell?” Madara shrugged, shifting on Izuna’s stomach and ignoring his pained grunt “No idea honestly, it was normal yesterday and _I_ didn’t do this” Izuna shoved him off with a snarl and staggered to his feet rubbing his stomach. “Ugh, what do you think your mysterious savior killed the bloodline hunters, moved you to a safe space, healed you, and then brushed your hair? Yeah right.” Izuna snorted and shook his head disgustedly waiting for his brother to agree, Madara was very quiet and Izuna looked at him slowly “No. You don’t think that. That’s crazy! Madara!” ignoring his brother’s wailing Madara shrugged. It wasn’t like Izuna was wrong, it was a very strange thing for someone to have done but Madara really couldn’t think of anything else that could have happened (and he couldn’t shake the phantom touch of fingers in his hair). (Also, he wasn’t going to mention that his eyes didn’t ache anymore; _he _wasn’t even sure what to think about that.)

His confused daze took him all the way through visiting the healers and the rest of the evening; he ignored Izuna’s confused glances over dinner as he tried to dig exactly what had happened out his confused brain and stumbled into bed after a perfunctory shower (he tried his best to not get his hair wet, he wanted to keep it nice as long as he could), the drugs and lingering fatigue caught up with him quickly and he dropped into sleep quickly only to fall into dreams. _He was warm and comfortable, there was something under his head and he dragged his hands up - legs, fingers skimming over strong calves, circling over knees – thighs, strong and **wonderful**, he shifted going to press his lips to them – fingers caught in his hair, delicious pain – a moan deep and knotting in his gut – breath on his ear and a hitching voice – white skin and red lines – _and Madara woke up hard and with fire in his blood. It was ridiculous, the dream hadn't even been that arousing in any particular way but somehow though the combined effect was to leave him more undone then he had been in a very long time if ever; it was so frustrating and he didn't even know where it came from or who he was dreaming up, all he could catch of the fading dream was the sensation of fingers in his hair and an intoxicating moan in his ears. Well, and white skin streaked with red, but that didn't make any sense he couldn't really think of anyone except maybe Hashirama's brother had the right coloring for that, so it was no help; maybe it was actually cloth? Nothing to do for it, he wasn’t going to be able to remember anything else now. _Damnit_.

The next week produced nothing new on either his hair-brusher (Madara had been _so_ disappointed when the lovely soft, detangled, whatever stopped) or whatever he was dreaming of- Madara was aware there was a strong chance they were the same but wasn’t going to make any assumptions- and Madara was sort of going mad (the dreams were _awful _because they were so absolutely lovely). So when news came that there was a skirmish between them and a Senju patrol Madara was out of his office and halfway into his armor by the time the messenger finished his report; Izuna was waiting for him at the gates as he had expected with a vicious smile on his face (Madara really didn’t get what Izuna’s problem with Tobirama was but it was getting annoying). Madara spent the entire run to the battle excited about the possibility of taking some of his anger out on Hashirama (Hashirama made such a nice target for frustration, all his shrieking made it easy to want to hit him) and didn’t really bother to slow when he reached it except to locate Hashirama and barrel into the taller man at full speed; yup, Hashirama’s distressed yelping was exactly what he needed today.

The fight was turning out to be wonderfully relaxing and he was reveling in the feeling of blowing of steam against someone he only held back from a bit and the focus that fighting Hashirama always required when everything went sideways. Hashirama sent an explosion of wood at him and as Madara leapt back and away, he glanced over at his brother to check on him as he always did, which was when it happened; Izuna was yelling after Tobirama as the other shinobi darted away from him to where a Senju kunoichi was about to get ambushed, summoning up a nasty Doton jutsu and _at the same time_ spitting a barrage of ice senbon. Madara’s brain went off line for a second- _guh_, _how_ had he never noticed- ow, _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ he had forgotten about Hashirama and was forced into a retreat as he scrambled to get his feet under him again, trying to shake off the confusing twist in his gut (fuck, he didn’t want to fight like this, it was fucking uncomfortable, also why was he reminded of a dragon?) and refocus. It worked for all of five minutes when there was an explosion of steam from where Izuna was doing his best to take Tobirama's head off, there was so much steam it brought most of the battle to a halt as people tried to figure out what had happened; which meant that Madara had a _perfect_ view of Tobirama exploding out of the cloud trailing steam and looking like a _god_, he was focused and unerringly honed in on Izuna even though he shouldn’t have been able to see him in the steam (the cloud _ought_ to have given the Sharingan an advantage. It didn’t) and they crashed together in a swirl of water. _Wow, just, **wow**._

The retreat was called off shortly after- Madara had rather lost his interest in fighting when his eyes kept jumping back to Tobirama- and both sides retreated with no clear victor; which was how it had been for a long time really, neither he nor Hashirama had any interest in promoting violence at this point so the amount of deaths had dropped off distinctly in the last few years. Madara just wished as he led the run back to the compound that had had a moment to do something about his…. problem before have to run; as it was the only thing he could do was try very hard not to think about the way stark white hair looked ruffled back from his face with the speed of his movement, or the way lovely, lovely red eyes looked narrowed in concentration, or the way he had moved so quickly to the defense of his clansman, or- wait. This was _really _not helping. Shit. _Shit. _(but he was so pretty! And deadly! And protective! And pretty when he was deadly! ….. ow. This was not fun.)


	4. Chapter 4

And the thing was, it didn’t get any better. At _all_. In fact, it got worse; the dream person started to _really_ resemble Hashirama’s (delectable) younger brother, and _every damn_ time he ended up on a battlefield that included Tobirama his eyes wandered over to the younger man and that made it _worse!_ Because the more he saw of the younger Senju the more he saw things that made life on the battlefield so, _so,_ uncomfortable (his mouth started to water every damn time he saw Tobirama pull of another almost impossible feat of deadly!pretty, and he did that _constantly_). (So far his favorite, and it had been _hard- _ literally- to choose, was the time had had seen the last living member of Tajima's child killing squads and hunted the older man down across the entire battlefield. Basically every person ended up just standing around watching Tobirama hunt the man like one of his leopard summons, playing with him in an utterly vicious way and all but batting him between his paws. No one had wanted to interfere to help the man, even the other Uchiha couldn’t really blame him for doing it, not after the disgusting man had _bragged_ about killing one of Butsuma’s tiny sons. By the time Tobirama decapitated him the Uchiha had been run into the ground and the Senju had still been pristine but for one streak of blood on his cheek setting off his tattoo. Madara had never wanted to _lick_ someone more. No none had really felt like fighting after that and Tobirama had just turned around and left without saying anything- he _looked_ at _Madara_ as he did so- so with some confused shrugging they had just… left.)

It was about two months after that he decided that this had gone on too long, he couldn’t do it any longer (as funny as Hashirama’s confused looks as the tried to figure out what was wrong were) fighting while hard _sucked_, and not in a good way (….. he was _not_ going to think about thin pale lips. He _wasn’t) _(also, the ache in his eyes was coming back and it hurt, he wanted to avoid using them if he could) so next time they showed up to fight and Hashirama started yelling about peace and love and flowers and friendship he threw up his hands and yelled right back at him. “_Fine! _Alright, stop it! Ceasefire!” and everyone pretty much stopped, which… honestly wasn’t really a change; nobody was really bothering to fight any more, just whacking halfheartedly at each other and sneaking glances from Madara to Tobirama (it was odd, Tobirama was the smartest man Madara had ever known and _he _hadn’t noticed- though neither had Hashirama) to watch Madara fail and make high pitched pained noises every time the Senju did something impressive. Izuna gaped at his older brother with a look of shock on his face, “What? _What?_ No! nonononono! Not doing it! no!” and that was how the Senju clan discovered that Izuna could fail every bit as well as his brother when the young man disintegrated into a full-blown temper tantrum. Tobirama drew back, a look of deep confusion on his face as he watched his rival fall to the ground and thrash around while screaming and yelling; the pale man looked around, baffled “…. Does this happen a lot?” he asked slowly.

Madara sighed deeply, he was tempted to ignore his brother- his normal tactic to deal with this- but if he didn’t he got to talk to Tobirama (!) “Yeah, unfortunately. He’ll stop eventually if we ignore him.” Tobirama shot him a dubious glance and backed away from Izuna looking like he was afraid the Uchiha had a contagious disease “… Right.” He shot a glance at Madara through his eyelashes (_guh_) and looked away the moment he saw Madara was looking back (… was there pink on his cheeks? It was hard to tell but Madara thought that the younger man was _blushing!_) “So, what exactly do you need to make the ceasefire work?” Tobirama asked moving to stand at his brother’s side (this was the closest Madara had been to him! He was even prettier up-close) and cocked an eyebrow at the Uchiha clan head. Madara forced himself not to splutter as he cleared his throat to respond- both of them ignoring Hashirama’s overjoyed sobbing and Izuna’s shrieking- “Well, the elders will be the biggest problems, it will take time to twist their arms enough to make them listen.” Hikaku- who had come to stand next to him (and nodded at the kunoichi at Tobirama’s side, how did they know each other?) grimaced “Yeah, they will _not _be happy.” Tobirama cocked his head eyes far away “Would it help if they had incentive to agree? Something they wanted and couldn’t turn down?” he asked slowly.

Madara frowned at that a bit “Yes? Not sure what that could be though.” Tobirama looked him right in the eyes (wasn’t he afraid of the Sharingan?) “How about a way to cure the Sharingan blindness?” he asked quietly. Madara and Hikaku gaped at him, “You can do that?” Madara whispered astonished; Tobirama blinked “Of course, I wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t. They jutsu is stable-“ “How do you know it’s stable?!” Madara blinked, apparently Izuna had gotten over himself and come over just in time to hear that, he had a look of horror on his face “How do you _know that!?_” he yelped. Tobirama shot him a confused look, “I tested it. It’s worked several times now with no complications.” Izuna stumbled back with a look of deep horror and Hashirama, uncharacteristically sober, said “Tobirama… who did you test it on? That’s not ok Tobi, you can’t do that.” He sounded close to disgusted and Tobirama froze, a look of shock on his pale face. Izuna, white with anger, said in a horrible hiss “You captured one of our clansmen and experimented on them, on _their eyes?!_” Tobirama took a shocked step backward and Madara turned on Hashirama and Izuna, face tight with anger “Do you _really_ think he would do that? Your _brother_ Hashirama? What the hell?! At least hear him out!” Behind him Tobirama gave a sharp gasp and he glanced back at the Senju who was looking at him like he hung the stars (it was _intoxicating_, and heartbreaking, he was so surprised to be defended it hurt), Madara gestured for him to come closer “What were you going to say Tobirama?” another shocked look.

Tobirama licked his lips (Madara’s eyes zeroed in on the movement before he could stop it) and quietly told him “I didn’t, I didn’t capture an Uchiha, you- You really think I would _do_ that Hashi? I. I didn’t realize you thought…” he shook himself and visibly refocused (Madara shifted closer on instinct) “I tested it on myself, like I _always_ do, it only blinded me a few times before I figured it out. I double checked what it would do on eyes the damaged nerves or corneas and it only hurt a little after I flushed the acid out. It works fine.” **_Silence_. Dead deep silence**. Madara stared at him, horrified “You tested it on _yourself_?” he whispered. Tobirama looked confused “Of course, who else was I going to use?” Madara couldn’t find his voice, luckily Hikaku could “_Why_ did you do that?” Tobirama looked around at all of them, clearly bewildered “It’s what I always do” he seemed to think this was obvious “How did you think I developed healing jutsu?” Madara- _hurt._ This was…. Not _ok_, and Tobirama didn’t even seem to understand that (also, it sounded as though he had put _acid_ in his eyes just to blind himself so he could check. That was _not ok_. At all.), he seemed confused at why everyone was just staring at him in horror. “Ok” said Madara slowly “we’re going to come back to that- and we _definitely will _be- but setting it aside for now (except for you Hashi, I’m going to _kill_ you later) you said it can heal Sharingan damage?” Tobirama nodded looking off balance “Alright you can try it on me.” And with that he stepped into Tobirama’s space (that was _definitely_ a blush, _yum_) picked up one long fingered hand and placed it over his eyes. There was a second of hesitation and then Madara felt chakra seep into his eyes, cool and gentle, and _extremely familiar._


	5. Chapter 5

Madara forced himself to hold still until the chakra faded- it was bad to interrupt a healing jutsu, especially one as delicate as this must be to fix eyes (also, how much control did he have to be able to do this?)- even though it made his skin itch to hold still when all he wanted was to start flailing wildly. The chakra receded, cool fingers pulled away from his eyes, lingering a little before pulling away completely; Madara stood for a second feeling the subtle changes in the flow of his chakra through his eyes until he felt Tobirama step back once, and then again. Madara’s eyes flew open and he lunged forward to grab Tobirama’s arm; he spluttered for a second trying to get his thoughts in order, which was probably why when he opened his mouth what fell out was “_Brush my hair”_ in the most commanding voice he had used in a long time.

There was an awkward pause as Madara processed what he had said and slowly turned red, Tobirama was gapping at him, all his usual composure gone “Um” _fuck it,_ Madara thought and stepped closer to the younger man “It was all soft and not tangled, fix it again.” He said firmly dragging Tobirama over to a discarded chunk of wood and shoving Tobirama to sit on it before dropping himself on the ground in front of him and shoving his head back into long fingered hands (pet me! Pet me!).

Tobirama’s hands hesitated before they slowly began combing through his hair, “Um, how do you know I fixed your hair?” he asked hesitantly, quiet enough their audience- frozen in abject shock—couldn’t hear. Madara snorted, “Your chakra, I sort of remember you fixing my eyes before. Um, also, I sort of have been dreaming about it.” Tobirama’s fingers froze and Madara butted his head back against him to get him to start again with an unhappy rumble, his fingers moved again, caught on a tangle, hesitated, Tobirama let out an exasperated sigh and Madara felt a burst of chakra (he didn’t really care what the younger man was doing as long as he started petting Madara again) before Tobirama’s hands retuned with something else. Madara glanced over his shoulder where Tobirama had a hand full of long dark hair and was working through it with a brush, a _really pretty_ brush; he peered at it try to see what was on it better, Tobirama went pink and focused intently on what he was doing, refusing to look at Madara. He pouted but turned around and stopped trying see it, it was easier to not think about than he would have expected (he _would _have another chance to figure it out) because the gentle tugs on his hair and the feel of Tobirama at his back lulled him into a happy stupor before long.

He was almost dragged out of his enjoyment by Hashirama approaching, “Um. so. what? I’m confused….” It was that particular pathetic whine that always made Madara wildly annoyed (Tobirama’s hands stopped, Madara pushed at him again) but he was perfectly happy to just ignore it this time; Tobirama seemed to agree honestly “Hashi, stop whining. It’s childish” Madara snorted, honestly like it was surprising to have Hashirama acting like that. Of course, the Senju then made it worse “Madara! Why are you ignoring me? You’re _my_ friend!” Tobirama began to pull back and Madara snatched his free hand, dragging it down to sit against his neck and lacing their fingers together “No. Tobirama is my person, that trumps friend. Brush.” Pale fingers hesitantly tightened on his own and Tobirama’s breath hitched but he did go back to tending Madara’s hair (it was harder with only one hand, but he was resourceful and made it work) the Uchiha gave a pleased grumble and cracked one eye to look at Hashirama’s dumbfounded expression- that was actually quite nice as well, making Hashirama speechless like that.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before Izuna got over his shock and came stomping over in a huff. “What have you done to my brother?!” he sneered, but it was a little half-hearted because seriously, the eyes thing (oh my god, he hurt his own _eyes_), and he had a feeling he knew what was going on. He remembered how sad Madara had been as his hair got all tangled again, and he _hated_ it, but he wasn’t _stupid_ he had noticed the way Madara was panting after the pale Senju; this was… disgusting, but not _actually surprising_. Unfortunately. So really he wasn’t shocked when his older brother cracked his eyes open, glared at him, and spat a mid-sized fireball at him; not to say that he didn’t start swearing as he leapt back from it, “What the fuck Madara!?! What was that for?!?” “Don’t be mean to my person.” Madara said in a sleepy snarl. (Izuna hadn’t known that Tobirama was _capable_ of blushing) Izuna swore and patted out the small flame on his robes, “Fine, well did the eye thing work at least?” Madara hummed lazily, “Yup” he slurred all but melting against Tobirama. Well, shit. Fuck. If there was a way to fix the Sharingan then there was no way the clan could afford not to take it, even if it came with the requirement of peace with the Senju (even if he had to ignore his bubbling frustration at the thought) they would take it; and really all off the wind had gone out of his sails of hatred at Tobirama, honestly he couldn’t stop think about the fact that the other man had done some probably awful things to his own eyes in order to come up with something to heal the Uchiha (he went blind from it, _several times!!_) it was sort of hard to think of him as the mad dog Izuna normally did in light of that. (Also, he had been coming up with new medical jutsu and _testing them on himself_. For years. _How_ had no one known this before?!? And why did everyone seem over it?! well not the kunoichi that was fuming next to Hikaku, or the freaked out looking few Uchiha and Senju that had been close enough to hear and looked really thrown by it. Which was _something_ he guessed.)

Madara was pretty much ready to melt into the ground right now (or something else, if Tobirama tugged just a little harder Madara was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from panting, _god_, this was right on the edge of arousal) and he let out a pathetic whine when Tobirama gave his hair one last stroke before pulling away “All done” he mumbled and Madara wanted to pout like a child “Not fair” he muttered petulantly before sighing deeply and absentmindedly dragging one pale hand around to press a kiss into he palm; it was Tobirama’s shocked breath that made him aware of what he had done and he bit down slightly on the bone of Tobirama’s wrist just to see what it would get him, a faint whine it turned out. Mmmmm, yum, he needed to do that again. _Soon_. And somewhere softer. Damnit. Madara let out a deep sigh and pushed himself to his feet with one last brush of lips over the Senju’s pulse point “Come on, we should go save Hashirama from Hikaku and your terrifying kunoichi” Tobirama blinked at him and Madara only caught the flash of something hurt and tired across his face before it shut down because he was watching so closely. That wouldn’t do at all.

He darted in close as soon as the younger man was on his feet and pressed what was _supposed_ to be a quick kiss on thin lips; it wasn’t. As soon as he made contact keeping it light vanished from his mind, because, _wow,_ and then when he lingered Tobirama went all limp and pliant and made a wonderful breathy noise and Madara wanted that again so he licked out and that worked, and then he quite forgot what he was thinking about and focused on licking into Tobirama’s mouth with all the focus he could muster. Which was a _lot_. Tobirama was reduced to shaking and leaning heavily on him- not that Madara was any better really- when they drew away to get air. “Everyone is- mm- watching” Madara mumbled in between light kisses, Tobirama fitted a callused hand to his jaw and sucked on Madara’s tongue- _fuck_, that was _amazing_\- “Don’t care.” And there went all of his blood south. “Tobirama-“ fingers in his hair- “Do you want me to stop?” um, no, actually. As long as Tobirama was ok with it, and he very much seemed to be “NO” Madara had always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and he _really_ wanted to show off his amazing- deadly!pretty, crazy!smart- person.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit short, things have been crazy

Madara’s hand was wrapped firmly around Tobirama’s sharp hipbone and about to progress back when a hand in his hair yanked his head away from Tobirama. What happened next was a confused blur of water before Madara found himself halfway behind Tobirama (Tobirama had... protected him) who was snarling at his soaking wet kunoichi clansman and she had a resigned looking Hikaku over one shoulder. Madara paused, a little confused as Tobirama snarled something about not surprising him and what if he _hadn’t recognized you_?! And she snarked _that good hun? First time you’ve been surprised in years._ (Madara preened a bit at that) Madara gave it a good think for a few moments “Tobirama.” The Senju stiffened “Do you just save me like a civilian-hime? For the second time?” Madara asked slowly. Tobirama hesitated, looking a bit trapped “Um…. I know you can protect-“ Madara _grinned_ bright and wild, “Well then, you deserve a proper thank you.” He said smugly and dragged _his_ Senju into a kiss that started out fairy tale and went filthy _very_ quickly; Tobirama got with the program admirably and jumped right in as an enthusiastic participant and Madara was just getting a hand underneath that blue armor when there was a loud shout and he regretfully pulled back. (On the other hand, it was probably just as well, he didn’t want to mess up his hair on the battlefield until he had a promise that he could get it fixed again.)

Tobirama made unhappy grumble as he pulled back and (asshole) that feather light brush against Madara’s groin was _definitely_ intentional (_so_ not fair) but they both turned to face Touka, well, Hikaku who was still draped over Touka’s shoulder (Touka rolled her eyes and turned around so the could talk to Hikaku) “Madara, you really should have an actually conversation before you… enjoy each other’s company. Unless you want him thinking this is a fling?” Madara squawked angrily and turned to Tobirama- who wasn’t looking him in the eyes. Damn it. “Fine, damn it. Tobirama, this, um, may not be the best place for this….. But! even if it’s not: I, um, I- am not good at this. But you’re my person and that… means something?” the look on Tobirama’s face was… complicated. He reached out and twisted a lock of Madara’s hair around his fingers and the corners of his mouth twitched up, but, there was something stilted about his expression; Madara shifted closer and curved a hand around the other man’s hip “Hey, don’t look like that, I mean it. truly. Tobira.” The glance slanted at him through white hair was distant and Madara set his jaw “Fine, I’ll just have to stick around and prove it too you.” Tobirama jerked and looked him head on, his mouth dropping open a little (Madara was getting the hang of it, Tobirama’s expressions were small and without the Sharingan he might have missed them but _wow_ did they speak) and Madara nodded firmly “Yes, I will. Nobody’s going to stop me.” (Touka, _are they having an old married couple conversation?_ Hikaku, _they’re having an old married couple conversation._)

Further discussion had to be tabled when a harassed looking Izuna stomped up to them again, “Fuck you! You answer the questions! It worked on you! No one surprised! But _still!_ So many questions! I won’t answer! NO! I-“ Madara sighed “_What_ Izuna?” Izuna sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in a careful count “The clan. The aren’t very upset. They knew you were all up in that. And rumors about eyes. And well, your hair does look nice honestly. SO. basically, um what now?”

Which was…. a good question. He had declared a ceasefire and they had an incentive to make the elders listen, on top of that apparently the clan was ok with a peace so there wasn’t much to stop them from actually moving forward on it except hammering out the details (and the eyes, Hashirama was dead). On the other hand, the logistics were going to be a nightmare and probably take _way_ too much time when what he wanted to do was follow Tobirama around, so things would need to be expedited. He nodded firmly to himself and looked at Izuna “Now we set up plans for a unified village.” Izuna gaped at him “… No. what? No! NO. that is going to take so much work! And Tobirama is scary! And I don’t want to move! Noooooooononoonooooo” and Izuna hit the ground. Again. Tobirama sighed. Deeply. Madara rolled his eyes (ignored Hikaku who seemed perfectly happy to stay where he was draped over the kunoichi, which made sense- Hikaku hated getting his shoes dirty and it was always extremely muddy anywhere Tobirama had been fighting) and faced his milling clan members “Anyone got any major problem with peace? Or know someone who does?” The Uchiha looked around at each other for a moment with what was basically universal shrugging and Mikoto stepped forward “Honestly? Everyone has had a chance to get used to it. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your fixation on the Senju heir, so we’ve had time to get used to it. Also, new digs would be nice, the compound is getting a bit worn. All you’ve really got to worry about is the elders.”

Madara stared, this was better than he had ever expected really, “Um. Tobira, how do the Senju feel?” Tobirama blinked back at him “Hashi has been preparing everyone for peace for years; everyone’s basically used to the idea by now. I… may have been writing plans. Maybe? I mean-“ Hashirama- who they had been successfully ignoring so far- made a sound akin to a hedgehog given a balloon and dashed over to them dragging his brother into what looked to be a crushing hug. Madara took one look at the sharp discomfort in Tobirama’s eyes and flipped his fingers through a simple jutsu to sick a hawk of flames on Hashirama until shrieked and dropped his little brother; Madara stomped forward and gently tugged the younger man into a loose hold- he could _feel_ Tobirama relax once he realized that the Uchiha wasn’t going to force him into a too tight embrace, he wanted to _hurt_ Hashirama. Hashirama who was wailing in distress and grabbing at Tobirama when he wasn’t flailing at the fire!hawk; Madara looked around at everyone and made an executive decision “Ok. Everyone go home, we can set up treaty meetings tomorrow and get moving on things then. Tonight, I’m going to go to the Senju compound, I have things I need to… _discuss_ with Hashirama.” (Tobirama jerked slightly in Madara’s loose hold, he squeezed the younger man’s forearm gently. Hopefully a chance to have that conversation Hikaku mentioned.


	7. Chapter 7

Running back to the Senju compound wasn’t difficult but letting go of Tobirama’s hand in order to do it _was,_ now that Madara had caught him he was reluctant to let him go and ok, so maybe Madara hadn’t known he was trying to catch the albino- or hadn’t admitted it to himself- but when you added his deadly!pretty to his hair care abilities and then gave it depth with all the character traits that Madara hadn’t been able not to notice (like his protectiveness of his clan, or his shinning intelligence, or his attention to detail, or his willingness to help when he could- and couldn’t, god _acid_ they needed to talk about that-, or- well, yeah Madara was over the moon about this) and there was no way that Madara was letting go of Tobirama unless Tobirama wanted him to (please let him not want Madara to do that). But for now he needed to have a conversation with Tobirama and hit Hashirama and the only problem his clan seemed to have with that was that they didn’t get to watch the drama anymore (yes he noticed that pouting Mikoto) so he could take care of such problems while in the Senju compound (and close to Tobirama).

(He was ignoring the money he saw changing hands- he didn’t need to know how many people had bet on him and Tobirama- especially when it was passing between Senju and Uchiha. Had both clans been betting on it? with each other?! Aw hell…) Actually, now that he thought about it, it gave him an idea; just before the smooth wooden walls he stopped and tugged a confused Tobirama to the side with a furtive look (Touka rolled her eyes and distracted Hashirama, she was Madara’s favorite) until they weren’t too obvious in the shade of the wall. “Madara, what?” He grinned cheekily and curled a hand around the back of Tobirama’s neck and pulled him into a lazy kiss softly licking at thin lips and relishing the way Tobirama melted against him and kissed back like he was trying to start a fight (and _ooooohhhh_ but Madara _loved_ the hands knotting in his hair, he hadn’t realized this was such a huge turn on for him), yup, he could happily do this forever.

Unfortunately they didn’t have forever and drew apart before to long; Madara sighed tiredly and darted in to press another light kiss to the _adorable_ pout that was forming, “We should probably go in, I need to beat up Hashirama.” Tobirama gave him a bewildered glance, “Why do you need to beat up Hashirama?” Madara stared at him, did he really? Huh, he really didn’t seem to know what Madara was talking about, so what did he think Madara wanted to talk to Hashirama about? ….did Madara even want to know? (yes, he wanted to know everything about Tobirama, he was greedy like that) He wasn’t given the chance to explain because an unimpressed Hikaku was sticking his head out of the gate and giving them an impatient look; Madara grumbled unhappily but snatched up Tobirama’s hand and stomped into the clan compound.

The Senju compound was smaller than the Uchiha one (they were a smaller clan after all) but it was definitely in better shape which gave credence to the reports that the Senju were in a financially good position largely from selling technological innovations… wait, weren’t a lot of those medical? Aw, fuck. Why did Tobirama have to be so impressive and also so sad? (he was feeling a real urge to pull an Izuna and have a temper tantrum right now…) Fine ok, he just had to make a village so that they could all live together and he could keep and eye on his person; with that in mind he stormed straight into Hashirama’s office and slammed his hands down on the large (silly looking- why did it have images of literal bunnies and flowers?- desk) ignoring the other occupants of the office (the Lady Senju was there as well as the frightening Touka, a sulking Izuna and an exasperated Hikaku). “Find a treaty to sign, we’re making a village.” He pronounced, Hashirama gapped at him, tears welling up in his large dopy looking eyes; behind them Touka snorted “And where do you expect to find a treaty just ready to be used?” Madara frowned, that was a very real problem, things like that could take month to draw up and he refused to be parted from Tobirama for that long; Except that was the point the man in question cleared his throat and was carefully studying the other wall when they all looked at him.

“I may have a draft we could use.” He said awkwardly, Lady Senju pursed her lips “Just any treaty won’t work” she paused and looked closely at him “but you know that don’t you. Do you _already_ have a draft treaty with the Uchiha drawn up Tobirama?” He showed no outward signs of discomfort, but a faint tip of the head gave him away to Madara’s keen eyes, “I… _may_ have something like that drawn up. Just in case of course.” Hashirama made an absolutely _exasperating _noise in his joy- a bit like a guinea pig given a stick of cinnamon- and Tobirama flinched back in clear expectation of a suffocation hug so Madara darted in between them and grabbed Tobirama, dipping him back into an appreciative kiss (Tobirama melted into it, Madara couldn’t say that he didn’t revel in the albino’s easy acceptance of the Uchiha’s intrusion in his space) (he also may have lost track of everything else in the warmth of Tobirama’s welcoming mouth) (_How has this been a thing? _Lady Senju _Since Toibra brushed his hair apparently, they have no shame, it’s very annoying- it makes them hard to talk to when they are to absorbed with sucking faces. _Touka _Maybe actually getting laid will help, we should get them a chance and see_ Hikaku- traitor, wait, actually, Madara _loved _him, private time with Tobirama was _exactly _what he wanted). Hashirama probably made an amusing noise in response but Madara was far to absorbed in his lovely, _lovely _person to actually care at all, much less listen to it; when they drew apart Madara pressed their foreheads together, reveling in the closeness and whispered “As soon as I have a chance I will show you my appreciation for your brilliant brain and preparedness.” And oh. my. that was. _Wow_. It was so _pretty_ when Tobirama blushed. Damn. He needed to make that happen again. Though not to often- at least in public- he was betting Tobirama didn’t enjoy it.


	8. Chapter 8

Tobirama felt like he was going into shock a little; it had been such a _bizarre_ day and he really couldn’t believe it was happening; Madara kissing him because Tobirama _brushed his hair_, really. like, _really_. That was absurd in the _extreme_, honestly the only thing about this that made sense was Izuna turning out to be an actual _child_\- temper tantrums made complete sense for him- everything else stretched the bounds of credulity; not that Tobirama didn’t have every intention of just going with it as long as it lasted- he would take what he could get in this case- but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, all he could wonder was when Hashirama would grab Madara’s attention again and he would lose interest in the albino freak (though maybe he would still come to Tobirama for hair brushing?), but for now he was going to take advantage of it _wildly_ (_so much_ pretty hair to play with!). Leading Madara through his childhood home also gave him a mean little thrill (_fuck you_ Father, I have an Uchiha- <strike>my Uchiha</strike>\- here and fully intend to make him welcome and kiss him and brush his hair and make him happy, _so fuck you_) in part from the shocked looks on his clansmen’s faces when they saw him walking with the Uchiha clan head; Hashirama must have sent word ahead (Mito would **_kill_** him if he hadn’t) but either people hadn’t believed it or they hadn’t heard yet (that was aunt Bassam walking straight into a wall in her shock, _fuck her too_, she never liked him) given the abject shock and faint horror on the older faces, though his younger clans members didn’t seem that fussed once they got over it and realized Madara wasn’t trying to kill anyone (was in fact all but _panting_ after Tobirama, for all that the albino seemed oblivious – were his eyes? Yup, he was watching Tobirama’s ass. well. it _was_ a good ass).

Oh shit. Now he had to let the older man into his room; not a problem normally however much he disliked people in his space, but he was supposed to find the papers for the treaty and maybe some notes for the base of the village- hmm, maybe clan listings would be good- which would mean digging through his desk to find the right things and that would mean Madara might see older versions, not clean version, versions with his notes and doodles and- oh dear. Slipping into his room he did his best to ignore the curiosity in Madara’s face as the Uchiha looked around and just focus on pulling out the papers after swiftly shucking his armor (it would be good optics even if he wasn’t used to it), stacking them neatly on his desk; fuck, he didn’t have a finished document on the Nara- that clan was a _pain_\- or a final version for purposed laws, that’s what he got for thinking more about the academy than anything else- he should just focus on _what he was supposed to do_, _useless- _Tobirama grunted as a heavy warm (_mmmm_) weight impacted him, shocking him out of thoughts as Madara wrapped himself around the slimmer man and pressed a delighted kiss to his neck. “Oh my gods, Tobirama you’re a- eternal flame I can’t believe you even _exist_” Madara muttered slightly frantically, though his hands remained gentle and nothing more than firm (nothing like Hashirama, Hashirama’s hugs _hurt_).

“Madara?” the Senju asked slowly, stroking the strong arm wrapped around him (when had Madara taken off his armor as well?) and shifting until they were sitting a little more comfortably on the floor, the Uchiha only muttered incoherently into his neck, little bits and fragments of words and Tobirama’s name that made little sense to the baffled Senju “Madara? What’s wrong?” the dark-haired man let out a high-pitched whine and Tobirama frowned, a bit worried now. “Madara? I… did I do something wrong?” (he _hated_ how small his voice sounded) Madara swore softly and squeezed him firmly for a moment before relaxing and using one gloved hand to tilt Tobirama’s face to press a gentle warm kiss to his lips, much softer than the albino would have expected given the other man’s faintly shaking fingers. Madara drew back with a slight sigh, “You didn’t do anything wrong darling, just the opposite- you-” he choked on his words a bit and Tobirama rubbed soothingly at his fingers “you’re _breath taking_. I just, I keep finding all these new things about you and you- you wrote all of this!” Tobirama frowned and then blushed hotly when he saw what Madara was clutching in his hand, an old copy of blueprints for an orphanage in the village- it was an old plan, one he had soon mostly discarded soon after, but had a nice sketch of his brothers that he had held onto it like many of the oldest documents (fucking sentimentality)- and he shifted uncomfortably forcing himself not to squirm in discomfort.

“I don’t- I didn’t- I mean- it seemed like a good thing to get started on, I never meant for anyone to _see _them, the old ones anyway” he muttered uncomfortably, refusing to meet Madara’s eyes; the Uchiha cuddled up to him, pressing a series of firm kisses to his cheekbone “Ok, you grab the ones the you think we need right now and we’ll send them with someone to everyone else and then you and I are going to look at these old ones together and talk and have sometime to just us.” Tobirama could _feel_ his cheeks heat up again (damn it, he hated blushing …though it was ok with Madara) as he nodded hesitantly, only- “Shouldn’t you be there? As clan head you need to be there to rectify anything.” Madara shrugged, the feeling of his muscular shoulders moving against Tobirama’s back momentarily distracting the younger man before he refocused “Maybe, but Izuna is- contrary to appearances- competent, and I’ll get a feel for them through reading the old copies with you anyway. I can sign it later. Like, tomorrow.” And now he was blushing even harder. Fuck.

He wasn’t given a chance to argue very much as Madara ushered him on to his bed and dumped piles of paper on his lap, before dropping himself behind Tobirama and tugging the younger man back to lean against his chest with a happy rumble; Tobirama sighed, very well then (it wasn’t like he really had it in him to deny Madara much).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharked was good enough to help me out with their godchild when I hit a bit of a block on this story.

Madara was very happy right now. _Very _happy. He had his person cuddled up against him covered in paperwork (all the lovely paperwork) while Hashirama whined pathetically in front of the door, except, huh, he had stopped at some point, odd Madara would have thought that he wouldn’t have left for anything; Touka or the Lady Senju must have come and fetched him, the Uchiha had been rather absorbed with his _wonderful treasure_. Watching him sort through the paperwork had been a joy (and a bit agonizing), Tobirama had been so shy and diffident (and there had been that _amazing_ wash of pink on his cheeks, though Madara refused to think about why the albino was so embarrassed) muttering the entire time about how he had never intended for anyone to _see_ them- _not the drafts, I always leave a clean copy around in case I die on a mission, ow Madara I’m fine, but the old copies are just sentimental_\- and he was sorry they were such a mess really and all the stuttering and paper shuffling when he came across something he was especially self conscious about (Madara _adored_ the few doodles of hawks on Uchiha fans and even one of what he was pretty sure was his hair- though he didn’t call Tobirama on that one- and the small rambling comments about how lovely his chakra was) and Madara just never wanted to let him go ever. **_Ever_**.

Going through everything also gave him a much greater appreciation of his person’s astonishing mind; the sheer amount of _work_ Tobirama had put into it was mind blowing, especially when you considered everything else that the albino had on his plate- which was an intimidating amount of work- and Madara had never admired him more (yup, his person was amazing and he was so, _so,_ lucky that Tobirama was even giving him the _time of day, _much less petting his hair), not even when he killed Yashiro, though that remained a treasured memory. It also made him more convinced than ever that they needed to get on this village thing as fast as possible because the world Tobirama had created for them there was a world Madara wanted to live in, also, the albino _needed_ a keeper. _Badly_. Not helped by the fact that Madara had finally gotten the whole story about the acid thing and it was somehow worse than he thought; it had come from when he scanned Madara’s eyes after he saved his life (and brushed his hair!) and in his careful work to discover a way to fix them he had simply chosen the easiest way of causing eye damage that he could work with (_I don’t know why you’re so upset about this Madara, I tend to have acid on hand and it is easy to apply with precision so I didn’t damage anything else, it’s a nicely controllable factor_), somehow the casual way Tobirama treated it- as if it wasn’t even worth much thought- made it even worse. (He was going to _kill_ Hashirama for letting his _little brother_ think that this sort of thing was ok, and there was no way that there wouldn’t have been signs of it when Tobirama was a child and didn’t know how to take care of himself so much.)

And now that all of that all the paperwork had been covered- at least a little, there was far to much to cover in one sitting- and the sun had slid past the horizon (and Hashirama was gone, he had show up some point in late afternoon but at least he was _gone_ now) they could just sit here and enjoy the comfort of each others presence and chakra, and the best part, _the best part_, was that Tobirama was playing with his hair again. Oooooh, it felt so good…. And he hadn’t even pulled out the brush out yet. “How did your hair get so bad anyway? It was a disaster when I dealt with it the first time, but I assumed that was from the mission.” Oh. Um. “Ah…. It’s… Uchiha hair is famously difficult and mine more than most and um… I do take care of it! I really do! I know I have to take care of it if I’m going to grow it long, and I love it long and mother would be so disappointed and I know it’s a mess, but father never had long hair and my sister brushed it and it _feels _nice and I like how no one can grab it and-“ and Tobirama was _laughing_, his shoulder softly shaking as he buried his face in Madara’s shoulder (and hair). (Madara _wanted_ to be offended, but he was just so pleased to have his person happy he couldn’t make himself care very much.)

Tobirama’s voice was heavy with amusement when he spoke, “So basically you grew it out and can’t be fussed to take proper care of it? Do you even brush it?” …..Madara was blushing. He just knew he was. “…..I comb it.” he said sulkily, Tobirama pushed himself up leaning on his arms where he was sprawled across Madara’s reclining form (oooo, he look so _pretty_ like this), easy amusement lying well on his sharp face, “You comb it. Bright hawk, when you have hair like yours a simple wooden comb isn’t enough, surely you know that?” the Uchiha cleared his throat “It…. may have come up. _Maybe_.” Tobirama laughed warmly deep in his chest, “It’s a good thing I’m willing to brush it for you then.” And Madara- ready to move past his embarrassment- pounced “That brush! Where did you get it?” The blush was back! It was so _pretty_.

Tobirama groaned and dropped back down onto the Uchiha forcing a grunt out of the other man, “Tobirama!” Madara sing-songed a little, increasingly curious about the younger man’s embarrassment. After some prodding Tobirama told him the whole story, muttering it into his hair and refusing to lift up off of his position pinning Madara; Madara for his part was rather glad that Tobirama couldn’t see the silly smile on his face and the cheeks he was sure were red, the thing was his hair was in some ways his only real vanity – the only place he let himself put his wants over good sense (and his father’s insistence on practicality) and to have Tobirama be so focused on it was _intensely_ nice (Tobirama liked the part of him that he sometimes felt was the only thing that made him _him_ instead of Uchiha clan head).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me there should be an AU where the Uchiha choose their mates based on who can tame their hair....
> 
> Also, has their been a huge change of tone since the first few chapters? I sort of feel like there has been but I can't tell how much it reads like that or is jarring. I mean, it sort of had to happen if the story was going to keep going for long, but I worry it could be off putting.


	10. Chapter 10

This was basically a dream. Tobirama was fairly sure of that at this point (though, if it was a dream wouldn’t he have woken up by now? So… maybe…_maybe_), after all he was currently curled up in his bed with Madara’s breath fanning over his collarbones and long hair twisted between his fingers, wrapped up in the Uchiha’s warm chakra and content in a way he hadn’t known in… well, longer than he could remember really, maybe before his mother died? Either way this was close to heaven as Tobirama ever expected to get (Madara _liked_ his paperwork, had wanted to go over it, wanted it explained to him and thought it was wonderful, not boring or stuffy or cold _so there Hashi! _<strike>Madara liked him?</strike>) and with peace seemingly on their doorstep (everyone seemed fine with it, Tobirama had heard some muttering about a good wager bringing people together but he had no idea what she was talking about, after all what could the Senju and the Uchiha possibly have in common to bet over?), Tobirama was so afraid of when other shoe would drop.

There might even be an established village (an _academy_ – one where children learned at their own pace) soon; within his lifetime even, which was more than Tobirama had ever dared to think about or hope for in any world, for all that he had planned for it (Tobirama had plans for lots of things people said he didn’t need to have plans for – honestly, it wasn’t like the zombie plan hadn’t been useful _Hashi_,) and with everyone actually getting along right now he might not need the things he had put in place to insure that the clans could get along evenly, which would be very nice indeed. But things were going _too_ well, he had even slept the _entire_ night which hadn’t happened in longer than he could remember, so surely _something _awful was going to happen soon?

Somebody tragic was going to die and maybe it would _Izuna_ and then Madara would loose his mind and because it happened in the Senju compound he would hate all the Senju and _hate_ Tobirama because he had distracted Madara from his younger brother and he would refuse to make peace and there would be more war and then peace would happen eventually (because it had to he thought, if there was even a chance no one would want to let it slip past) and then he would want Hashirama to die or Tobirama and Tobirama would offer to die and Hashirama would stop him and the village would be formed but Madara would be hurting and angry and alone and betrayed and Tobirama wouldn’t even be allowed to help because Madara would hate him and then Madara would leave and Hashirama would follow him and then Madara might_ die_ and then Hashirama’s heart would be broken because Madara was the brother he really wanted and Tobirama would be alone and then maybe Madara wouldn’t be dead and would find a giant monster to throw at them and an alien would find him and making his go even crazier and Mito would have to seal up the monster but none of them would know about the alien and then Hashirama would die and Tobirama would have to be Hokage and he wouldn’t be good at it and everyone would hate him and the he was cold and mean and Uchiha would get isolated and Madara would still be under the alien’s control and some day the Uchiha would all die because Tobirama couldn’t be his brother and help people get along because he was stupid and useless and a freak and-

And his lips were suddenly claimed in a fierce kiss that made his brain go blissfully blank. It was only after he had been reduced to a puddle of warm bliss by Madara’s lips and tongue that the older man drew back, looking at him with slightly worried eyes “You ok? I could _feel_ you over thinking something, but you didn’t seem to hear me call your name. You were hyperventilating, what- hey _no_, don’t look like that, it’s ok, I just want to make sure you’re alright.” Tobirama couldn’t meet Madara’s eyes (_what if-?_) and the Uchiha sighed a little “I’m not mad at you, you’re my person” Tobirama’s eyes jerked over to look at him “But what does that _mean_? You keep saying it, but I don’t understand.” He said, frustrated by the plaintive note in his voice and he faint shake underneath it; Madara frowned a little and leaned down to kiss him absently “It’s… um. You’re my person, I- you’re the person I choose to have as my everything, the only person that gets to touch my hair and the only person that I want to see every minute of the day, the person I always want to come home to and the person I never want to leave, the person I belong to and with and the person that I want to matter to more than anything else.” He said a little helplessly, “I- I don’t know how to explain it better, I could bring you something? I’m supposed to find you gifts- I _want_ to find you gifts- but I haven’t really had a chance and-“ Tobirama was sure his face was _on fire_ right now and he knew his smile must look incredibly stupid but… he was _Madara’s person!_

He tugged on a handful of dark hair to bring Madara close enough to kiss and relished the pleased moan that the hair tugging elicited, doing it again experimentally and shivering at the sound the Uchiha made. “Haven’t forgotten what you were thinking “ Madara muttered in his ear and Tobirama, Tobirama pouted (Madara was fairly sure he was going to _die_. _Holy shit that was adorable_) before muttering sulkily- which mostly hid his embarrassment- “I sometimes I think about thing and then I can’t help but think about what would happen next and I- I spiral. It’s stupid.” Madara sighed (he hated this self-hate) and bit sharply as the neck beside his cheek making Tobirama jolt “_Not stupid_. There’s nothing about you that is stupid, your brain just works to hard and too fast, that’s all.” Tobirama made a tiny whimper and wrapped his arms around Madara tightly, pressing them as close together as he could, “_thank you_” he whispered and the Uchiha hummed gently, “Always for you.”


	11. Chapter 11

To Madara’s _great_ disappointment they weren’t given anymore time to discover each other and how wonderful it was to wake up together before he heard to the dulcet tones of an impending Izuna!tantrum; he flopped down grumbling angrily and Tobirama laughed a little as he did, “Does he normally do it this often or is it because he’s here?” Madara sighed again even deeper “Not usually this often no, he’s probably stressed but…. we should probably get up.” And oh dear god _why?! There was the pout again! Madara **had** to bite it!_ and turns out biting it was wonderful too really, what with the whimper it got him from Tobirama, “You- _mmm_\- can’t do that if we’re supposed to be getting up Madara.” Tobirama said into his mouth and Madara swore but dragged himself up right sulkily, Tobirama laughed a little at the look on his face (_ooooohhh, he had a pretty laugh_) and tugged him to his feet “Come on you can shower while I see if I have clothing that might fit you, you’re broader than I am but we’re pretty much the same height.” Madara _wanted_ to argue with showering alone but he could hear Izuna and speed really would be better this morning, but he was going to make it happen later! (Tobirama wet, with water dripping down all those wonderful muscles and making him slippery and lovely…)

The shower was cold by necessity and short as he could make it and still not smell like a battlefield however half hearted the battle had been, it was also complicated by his efforts not to get his hair wet- washing it always took _way_ too much time and- wait. Could he. Could he get _Tobirama to wash it for him?!?!_ (!) maybe, but it would have to wait. They needed a village _now_, he wanted to live with his person already damn it! Tobirama’s clothing did sort of fit, it was too small in the shoulders (god the man was so slim) and somewhat in the waist but given the loose cut of the fabric it worked for now and he had even found things that didn’t have any Senju markings on them at all (not that Madara would really have minded, he would love to be claimed, but it probably wouldn’t look great really to have him in another clan’s colors). He was allowed to poke around his person’s room while Tobirama was in the shower (well, not _allowed_ technically, but Tobirama didn’t say he _couldn’t_ and that was close right?) which was good because he _needed_ a distraction- wet Tobirama….- and when Tobirama came out all clean and redressed (eternal flame but he was _so_ pretty) they ventured towards the dining hall and the shrieking Izuna.

The dinning hall wasn’t a huge room, not large enough to really be called a hall honestly though Tobirama said that was just what everyone called it anyway, and there wasn’t that many people there at the moment, a few exasperated looking Uchiha that had come with them (huh. Madara probably should have payed more attention to _which _Uchiha had come with them) Lady Senju looking completely calm even with Izuna’s racket, Touka and Hikaku looked to be betting on something (the length of the tantrum probably, that was a normal thing to bet on) and Hashirama was sobbing dramatically in a corner (oh, probably beting on which one of them would stop acting like children first). Tobirama looked around and sighed before walking straight at the flailing Izuna, reaching down with the accuracy that only people long acquainted with such thing possessed and hefting Izuna up by the scruff of the neck, holding him in the air even as he flailed there like and overturned turtle for a moment (_ohmygodlookathisarmshowluckywasMadara_) before realizing he was in the air and looking around the an air of comical confusion as Tobirama just looked at him. “Are you done?” Tobirama asked firmly, Izuna nodded, “Why were you so upset?” Izuna pouted and pointed at Hashirama still sniffling in the corner, “Did Hashirama upset you?” another nod “Did he try to hug you?” another nod “Ok, I’ll tell him he’s not allowed to do it and if he does you tell me, ok?” yet another nod; Tobirama put Izuna down, patted him on the head and rolled up his sleeves as he walked over to Hashirama and Madara gapped. ….How?

“Tobirama loves kids, he always enjoys teaching them when he can so he know how to deal with them, pity it only sort of works on Hashirama” said Touka, who was suddenly standing right next to him and watching a stern faced Tobirama tell off the God of Shinobi with crossed arms. “Oh” she added “if you hurt Tobirama I’m going to make sure that every bit of clothing you own has holes in strategically awkward places and put burrs in your hair. I’ll set Izuna into tantrums every time I see him- and I will see him a _lot_\- and all your armor will smell strange, your weapons will always be blunt and you will never know where you spoons are, you will never see your favorite book again and your clan will look at you funny and then I will get serious in making you _hurt_.” Madara was fairly sure he had stars in his eyes as he looked at her. “I want to be you when I grow up” he breathed and Touka- looked torn between flattered and _deeply_ confused, “I told you we don’t react like normal people to threats, it’s worse the purer the Uchiha blood is- goes with the hair I think- I’m just glad I’m only half Uchiha really” pipped up Hikaku from his other side and Madara was fairly sure he was supposed to be offended, but honestly? Right now he felt happier than he could remember. (even Izuna was looking happy-ish, if also _really_ confused by the abrupt end to his tantrum) (also, he and Hashirama needed to have a _long_ conversation about the acid thing, but maybe he could leave the worst of the retribution to Touka, it would certainly create less of a diplomatic nightmare for Tobirama to deal with and Madara liked that)

The rest of the meal was startlingly easy, especially once talk turned to working on the peace and setting the ground work for the village (_especially_ once Tobirama pulled out The Brush and started working on Madara’s hair again, even if it made it hard for him to think) which was going _really_ well all things considered. Lady Senju (Mito, though Madara wasn’t sure if he was ready to call her that yet) looked pleased as could be and was _somehow_ managing to keep Hashirama from anymore dramatics (Tobirama’s stern eyes probably helped though) when it was pronounced that they could probably break ground on the village within the month as long as everything went well and they chose someplace soon (Madara may or may not have had a place in mind already…. He _definitely_ hadn’t been taking the long ways back from missions for years to check out options, no sir-y); personally Madara was just trying to figure out how they were going to work things with him in the Senju compound for half the time as his clan got ready, it’s not like he was going to be parted from Tobirama for an entire _month_ after all. No way. (He also wasn’t looking forward to Izuna’s hysterics at the idea of having to actually do some of the clan heads work while Madara was away, he didn’t enjoy watching Tobirama treat Izuna like he was four, he really didn’t)


	12. Chapter 12

Madara stood on the cliff overlooking the place they had chosen to build their village (_Konoha, their home_) watching the sun slant over the half built structures and highlight all the people still hard at work making their new home; Senju and Uchiha and Hatake and a few other clan all at work using the blueprints that his lover had created to make something great, something _lasting_. This was his dream, he knew that Hashirama’s dream wasn’t finished yet, he needed to see it done and built and shiny, (and he knew that Tobirama’s dream was the academy they wouldn’t be ready to use for some time yet) but this was _his_ dream; everyone working together for a common goal, everyone _building_ something together instead of tearing each other down, his dream was of a chance to make a better future and right now? Right now he was looking at that chance.

“Bright hawk?” and there was the other half of his dream, Tobirama looked beautiful and dangerous as he always did as he approached Madara’s side, but Madara was so glad that the gauntness had faded from his features, slim now instead of _thin_, and the shadows under his eyes the marks of a long night discussing taxes with Hikaku and Mito not to many battles and not enough healing. Some days Madara couldn’t help but wonder that would have happened if things had been different, what if someone had died? What if the war had dragged on? What if- strong arms slid around his waist and Tobirama leaned against his back, face tucked into Madara’s hair- the hair he had brushed the morning and again at midday, people were getting used to seeing them sitting in the sun somewhere as Tobirama used The Brush on Madara’s hair, weather it needed it or not (_“….why is Tobirama-sama brushing Uchiha-sama’s hair again? Didn’t he do that this morning?” sigh “Yes. He did. And he will do it again later I’m sure, I try not to think about other people’s kinks, and neither should you”_).

Madara hummed happily relishing at the feeling of everything he cared most about nearby. “Did Mito hug Izuna again?” he asked and Tobirama snorted “Yes, he froze up as usual. Hashirama is still pouting that he’s not allowed to hug him so Touka and Hikaku have started to doing it in front of Hashi every chance they get. I think Izuna is going to have a meltdown about all the hugs he is getting.” Madara snickered “Well it’s probably good for him, maybe he didn’t get enough as a kid, I saw a Hatake pup give him a hug the other day.” Tobirama laughed and pressed a kiss to the Uchiha’s neck and murmured in his ear “As long as there aren’t any new adults that start, I think Mito and Hashirama might be a little territorial.” Madara let out a pathetic whine “I don’t want to _think about that_ Tobira!” the albino hid his laughter in Madara’s shoulder though the shaking of his body gave him away and Madara huffed grumpily as if there wasn’t a smile tugging at his lips and leaned harder into Tobirama.

They stood together looking out over the village, over Konoha, until the sun slipped past the trees and the Uchiha lit the fires all over the camp like little stars; only then did Madara stir “Did you ever think we would get here?” he asked lowly, Tobirama sighed softly “I… No. not really. I hoped, I guess, and I planned of courses, but think we would? At the very least I never thought I would see it happen. I suppose I thought I would be dead before it happened.” Madara shuddered, the way he always did when that came up, when Tobirama mentioned his passive belief that he would die on a mission or a battlefield. He turned, turned away from Konoha and cupped that wonderful, dear foxy face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over red streaked cheeks, his heart warming as Tobirama pressed into the caress “I don’t think I could be happy here without you, I love you.” And Tobirama- Tobirama _smiled_ the way he always did when Madara told him that, brushing a kiss over the thin strip of skin between glove and sleeve “I love you too, I don’t think I could be happy _anywhere_ without you.” Madara pressed forward into a kiss, as he always did when Tobirama told him that, and relished this; there would be hard days and pain and heartache, they were still shinobi after all, but there was also this, also kissing in the dark, and The Brush, and paperwork with bitchy comments in the margins, and a warm place in his bed he didn’t make, and a _life_ neither of them expected to have, and-

-and Madara pulled away with a deep groan, thumping his head on Tobirama’s collarbone (he had had a chance to nibble on it, it was _fantastic_) as the younger man sighed. “Hashirama tried to hug him.” He said darkly and Tobirama nodded “Hashi tried to hug him. I guess I should go have a word with my brother…” “Why do we do more managing them than we do managing the village?” Madara grumbled as Tobirama tangled a hand in his hair and tugged gently “Hell if I know.” (and in Konoha Izuna shrieked and their family laughed, and their future grew)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by sharked "And yep, still can’t get enough of Madara’s kink for angry, powerful Tobirama (not that I blame him, Tobirama snarling at Madara to take him to bed is A+ content). I imagine if they did manage to fall in love when they were young, the battlefield would have been a very awkward place for Madara. Picture Madara watching Tobirama and Izuna beating the hell out of each other, and not knowing whether he should be terrified for Izuna or panting after Tobirama. He would have to agree to peace just to reduce the number of inconvenient boners, because at some point Hashirama would start giving him some very concerned looks."  
"Now I'm picturing Tobirama wandering around, minding his own business, when A Wild Madara Appears! And Tobirama somehow manages to convince him to let him brush his hair with his emergency hairbrush and pet him in general--maybe Madara is injured, and Tobirama takes care of him, and coaxes him into his lap and treats him ever so gently. And by the time Madara is recovered, Tobirama is long gone and all Madara has are some confusing dreams about Hashirama's little brother and hands running through his hair."


End file.
